The Price of War
by skogrdragon
Summary: Can Mary, Colin and Dickon get through the difficulties of growing up, and in the midst of a cruel war? M&D C/CC
1. Ch 1 Misselthwaite Again

**Chapter 1**

 _Misselthwaite Again._

 ** _I yearn for you my north country_**

 ** _for your moors and fells,_**

 ** _where lapwings rise into_**

 ** _cerulean skies,_**

 ** _and the curlews cry._**

 ** _Where the melting snows in Spring,_**

 ** _charge the becks to sing, and stir_**

 ** _the mossy banks to green._**

* * *

It was naturally thought by Lord Craven (and perhaps a bit more by Mrs. Medlock) that the fast growing young Mary Lennox had finally become quite strong enough for a governess.

Mary had tried with all her might to convince Lord Craven that she still had more room to get stronger and that she needed more time to stay in the gardens and the moors but Lord Craven was not to be debated with.

Mary certainly did not want to have to conform to rules of a silly governess, to sit still like a lady, to study about the kings and queens.

"Who might I ask, needed to learn about the kings and queens when you could be the king or queen of your own garden?" She would occasionally think to herself.

On top of that, to have such boring lessons on keeping your posture lady-like or how to be holding a teacup.

Those sort of things didn't matter as much to Mary as the outdoors did.

She wanted to be free in the grass, to run with bare feet across the moors.

She wanted to play and laugh and scream with no one to tell her to do anything otherwise, she yearned to be in her garden all day. Her governess Miss Crawford was just as bad as Mrs. Medlock, if not even worse.

She did not like Mary very much and would constantly scorn her and complain to Lord Craven that Mary was much too headstrong a girl with bold opinions and very little manors or care for femininity and class. (Mrs. Crawford thought she was a very high and mighty woman, and always thought of herself as a high class lady even though she would always beg Lord Craven to give her early pay so she could send it off to her poor mother.)

Mary would sometimes be sitting in the presence of company and burst out into a passion about being so bored and tired of talking about the things in fashion, the outrageous way so-and-so looked with her hair up in a tangle on top her head while riding in her carriage yesterday, or why the poor always got in the way.

Susan Sowerby thought otherwise, Mary had been very helpful and kind to Mrs. Sowerby's family and she loved to help with anything she could.

She would always bring a little lunch to Dickon in the gardens and she would on occasion walk or, if it was Martha's day off they would both venture before dawn to the cottage of 14 people and help to water their small garden, bake bread and babysit the young children while Mrs. Sowerby cooked or did laundry.

She enjoyed talking to Jane, the second oldest Sowerby girl, who was about the same age as her and Mary helped her with some schooling and she taught her how to read and do a bit of arithmetic. She brought berries and vegetables from the Manor's gardens to Thwaite, the town right outside Misselthwaite Manor to help feed the poor.

A large issue that raided Mary's thoughts was why the terrible war was taking all of the young people away and never letting them return. She had been both anxious and afraid to hear anything about the war and what was happening for she knew that if it continued to go on, more and more young men would be entering the war.

Even though she could beg Lord Craven to never let young Colin enter into the war, she knew that she would be helpless in asking Dickon not to sign up. The war had affected much of the country in it's time and in the early months of this year; 1915 the war was still going strong, earlier that spring had begun the aerial bombing of Germany over British soil using the newly invented "Zeppelins" poison gases were being used for the first time and many ships were sunk in British waters.

It was unconditionally hard for Mary to never get upset about it, and she felt completely useless. To make herself feel better, she would on occasion volunteer in town at the local rehabilitation center strictly doing laundry or making meals for wounded soldiers since she couldn't stand the sight of blood or wounded human beings.

Without her noticing, the moors had been given the chance to thoroughly travel through her wild blood and make her grow into a beautiful and strong willed young lady.

She had stared up into the radiant Yorkshire skies just long enough for them nurture her spirit and it gave her eyes a wild glittery sparkle.

She ran through the winds whenever they were strong and somehow it gave her hair a soft wispy shine.

She had sniffed the earth and the flowers so that they would give her cheeks life and color.

Miss Mary Lennox was now quite strong and was growing up faster than life.

* * *

Colin had grown just as fast as Mary, and had become quite a handsome tall and smart young man and he had indeed kept up with his Scientific Experiments and Lectures. He spent the better half of his time buried deep in all different kinds of books and writing in his journal, finding new things out about anything and everything he could lay eyes on.

He had also become very athletic and was now doing some sort of sport once a day, his legs had grown astonishingly strong and long. His daily sport might perhaps be playing tag in the gardens with Mary, riding his favorite horse, playing football with Dickon, or any other exercise a young growing boy might enjoy doing.

But his favorite of all things was being in his mothers garden and he loved being reminded of her there through the soft scents of roses that wafted through the air in a breeze, or the sound of the birds chirping in the morning. He had a new painting done of his mother on the door of the garden, for everyone to see as soon as they entered.

He mostly spent his garden time patting the dirt around a budding plant or touching the petals of the roses while he was thinking. He loved talking to Ben Weatherstaff, Mary and Dickon about his Experiments there too.

He was always in deep thought about something and the garden and outdoor air had helped him to think deeper about it. Lord Craven was proud of his young growing son, he would always glow and smile at Colin, or pat his head in affection.

He loved to see him so busy at work and he couldn't keep up with the growing mind, so decided on sending him to college early despite the issues with the war, for his intelligence was advancing and he didn't want to miss a chance of Colin becoming a very popular scientist.

Colin at first, had wanted to go war and help fight for his country but Lord Craven told him that he was very much too young to be out fighting and getting into dangerous situations. Colin gave up his efforts to convince her father to let him go and settled on going to Leeds to study which was close to home, he would be leaving in the fall.

* * *

Dickon, being older of the two cousins had been first to grow up and being 17, he wasn't much of a child anymore. Being the oldest boy in a cottage of 12 siblings, Dickon knew his responsibility to his family to bring in some money for tomorrows supper.

Shyly and respectfully, he asked Lord Craven for a job in the gardens so he could be among the things he treasured and loved most; his friends and the plants. Lord Craven thought of Dickon as a second son, and he kindly gave him a good job working as under gardener to Ben Weatherstaff and would in future if he wished, take his job when Ben Weatherstaff was to retire.

He had grown very tall and broad for a 17 year old and his rusty curled hair had turned just a bit darker with his maturing years; which now was also becoming a bit tamer and longer. It sat on his head in little waves instead of curls, which gave him a handsomeness that would be as if he were a gentleman from London. He always covered this head of hair with a tweed brown hat.

His Yorkshire was just as broad as it had always been and his smile just as keen and animated as ever. He never had never really talked much, and his personality was more quiet and watchful.

Colin didn't mind it, he could tell him all the lectures in the world and Dickon would only smile and listen very intently. Dickon was one of those unique people that devoured every piece of information that went through his ears and kept it stored very carefully inside his head. (Very unlike Mary who liked to share her opinions on any matter that was spoken about.)

He had taken up to learning a thing or two and borrowed some learning books from the Manor library. His reading abilities were limited and some words he didn't understand, which made him frustrated at times and he turned to Mary for help. Mary was more than happy to help him and would take it into her own hands to arrange for them to study.

She would sit on a swing in her beautiful blue dress and glittery expression and proceeded to swing back and forth to let her dress flow with her movement while she had a book in her hand. Dickon sat on the ledge next to her and listened to her read the words for him and he would reply with the answer to what it meant, sometimes purposely saying the wrong answer just to tease Mary and make her answer it correctly for him.

Once, she had been asking what a certain word meant and she noticed Dickon wasn't paying attention to her, so she snapped her finger at him which made a loud sound and seemed to put him out of a dream. He apologized for it and he gave her a playful look. Mary had gotten embarrassed and colored deeply.

She hid her face in the book she had been reading and her body twitched slightly as she giggled to herself. Dickon had also become embarrassed, reddened and stood up and paced back and forth a few times before he cleared his throat and told Mary he forgot to do something and left.

Mary was smarter than most of the young girls Dickon had known and he admired it. He would think about her and how well and full of life she looked while she swung. How an intense glow came over her face while she read, and how the words left her mouth like a singing bird. Or how she could eat so many biscuits for snacks and still be as thin as ever.

Dickon had work off early one Monday and he walked home to enjoy some time with his brothers and sisters. As he came to the back kitchen door of his family's cottage he heard sweet singing and laughing from within. He peeked through the door and eyed Mary, who was standing at a table with his mother kneading bread. Mrs. Sowerby was teaching her a Yorkshire tune, which as he came up to the door, heard her singing some of the words:

 _"His cheeks are like roses, his eyes like two sloes,_

 _He's proper and he's handsome wherever he goes,_

 _And besides he's good-natured and comely to view,_

 _He's my bonny Scotch lad with his bonnet so blue."_

It was his mothers favorite song for Mr. Sowerby of Scottish ancestry, was in the Military in his youth and it reminded her of their younger days together. Mary had learned it very well and he listened intently with a blush. As he became more visible within the door Mary looked up at him and smiled which made his heart beat quick and his face reddened with heat and color. Mary motioned him to join them and Mrs. Sowerby, turning to put the bread into the oven saw Dickon and ran to hug him.

She looked up at him and asked him how his day was at the Manor. Everything was just as usual. She told him to sit and rest and perhaps read the papers? Here is some tea for you dear and take your shoes off before laying on the couch you horrible boy! She turned back to Mary and told her that she would be saying the same thing when she was married and had so many children.

Mary blushed at the remark and tried not to glance at Dickon who had heard his mother as well and put the newspaper up to his face to hide the reddening of his cheeks and the smile on his face, which turned to a frown when he seen the column on the first page reading _"Your Country Needs You!"_ a shadow came over Dickons face and a knot started to tighten in his stomach.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! I really enjoyed writing this chapter, it really brought me back into the characters and how they might have grown. Any questions, comments, concerns are welcome! I do not own the Secret Garden book, that work belongs to Francis Hodgson Burnett. Also, the poem at the beginning of the story belongs to Alfreda Mackenzie.**

 **Also this is my first fanfiction so I hope it's not too amateur!**


	2. Ch 2 A Horse To Love

**Chapter 2**

A Horse To Love

"I am bored to death!" thought Mary, as she sat in her chair, tracing the outline of the desk with one of her hands while the other rest under her chin. She was staring out the window in a daze.

"Miss Lennox, please pay attention." Said her governess, who was sitting in front of her with a math book. Mary yawned and looked at her paper.

"Oh all this math makes my head ache! I want some fresh air."

Her governess tapped her pencil on the table with a hint of agitation and looked straight at Mary.

"Listen here now child, if you plan on being difficult you can stop right now, I will not put up with this kind of behavior. I am here to teach you and you shall be taught."

Mary sat up straight and rolled her eyes as she wrote down the math question told to her. She remembered that Lord Craven had asked her most politely if she could try to be kind and patient with her learning even if she didn't care for the governess.

She loved her uncle and thinking of his kind pleading words helped her to concentrate better on her study.

Mary and Colin both took the same class of learning and so the governess took on the responsibility of teaching both children until Colin left for Leeds in the fall. Mary dreaded it, she would miss her cousin and put the thought of him leaving in the back of her mind for the time being.

Soon enough, study time was over and Mary was free to do as she chose. She ran to the kitchen and picked up a basket and filled it with fresh fruit and some bread.

She went out and began to sniff the air. It filled her cheeks up with delight and she blushed. She lifted up her skirt to let her run more freely and headed to the garden and opened the door to enter when she heard a familiar whistle. Her face filled from ear to ear with a smile and glowed with content.

"Dickon, Dickon!" She yelled as she skipped through the garden to where he was trimming some branches.

"Miss Mary! How did studyin' go today?"he asked as he put down his pruning scissors to grab some blueberries from the basket she offered him.

"It was dreadfully boring. I couldn't help but think of what you might be doing out here, or what the animals on the moors might be up to, or how warm the air was today, but I had to keep doing math problems because Miss Crawford thinks I'm behind in my studies. I know them well enough, but I'd rather keep it in my head than have to use it."

Mary had argued with Dickon and Colin about not being contrary anymore, but she still was and even more so in her maturing years but Dickon didn't mind it one bit. In fact, he quite liked it when she was contrary, it put a certain glitter in her eyes that he admired.

They talked a bit more about the day when Colin came into the Garden with his notebook in one hand and chewing on the end of a pencil with his other.

"Mary, Dickon, do you think that we could really travel through time? I was looking through fathers papers and found a very fascinating article from a journal of a scientist named Albert Einstein claiming that by putting energy, mass and space into one equation, we could possibly travel through time, I got so terribly excited about it. Don't you think thats wonderfully intriguing!"

His eyes glittered with wonderment as he walked up to both who were now sitting in the grass. He sat down next to them.

"Oh yes indeed Colin,"Said Mary with a grin, she glanced at Dickon and gave him a smirk. Whatever Colin was talking about, it was something they both completely did not understand and it was their job to listen and let him talk.

Colin looked at Mary.

"Why are you laughing at me?"

"I'm not laughing at you Colin, it's just that I really never understand what your saying most of the time about those scientific equations or those mass energies or whatever they are called, you're too smart for me. You should talk about that stuff to professors in college."

She put her hand on Colin's arm and smiled at him.

"Aye Colin, Mary's right, thy should excited 'bout goin' t' College soon." Said Dickon. "Don't thy want to be goin' to College too, Mary, and get into society a bit?"

"No, not really. I'd rather stay here. I can learn more about everything from your mother or the library than any professor." She replied.

"Aye, mother knows anythin' 'bout anythin'. She's the wisest lass in Yorkshire," said Dickon, a big wide glowing smile came over his face.

Colin, who probably wasn't really listening to the conversation proceeded to write something down in his notebook and told the other two he needed to check something in the a book he forgot on his desk and left them again. They finished the fruit they had in their basket and laid in the grass on their backs and watched the clouds go air was fresh, still and quiet…

* * *

A strange sound floated through the air. Dickon jumped to his feet and cupped his hand to his ear to listen. The sound had come from outside of the garden. Far off on the moor most likely, but it wasn't just any sound. It was the sound of something in need of help.

"Do you hear tha'?" he asked quietly.

"I hear it, it sounds like the wind whistling for help. What could it be, Dickon?" She asked, now standing and taking a hold of his arm unknowingly.

"Sounds like an animal in need of some help. We should follow th' sound." He replied. "Follow me."

They both quietly walked out of the garden and past some trees and over a small hill nearby. The sound was only heard a few times and now they heard it again. Much louder this time, and Dickon moved his head to the sound like a dog who hears his name called.

They reached a small break of land in between two adjoining hills that had sunk underneath a fence and there lay a young horse, whining and kicking in pain. It looked exhausted, there was sweat all over its body and it was breathing harder than Sea Biscuit in a race. They both walked up to the horse, taking care not to scare it.

"Oh my! What has happened to the poor horse, Dickon?" Mary asked as she put her hand over her mouth and crept closer to the fence to get a better look.

"Eh, she got all tangled up in th' fence there, it's a barbed fence. Not good for horses, if we canna' get her leg out of the wire soon, she'll loose it and have t' be put down." He said.

"Oh dear!" cried Mary, her face turning sad and dark, she hated seeing anything in pain and the thought of having to put a horse down made her feel sad.

"Mun have fell down th' hill there. Young horses like this don't have much stability on th' hooves. Clumsy little thing. Don't worry, we'll get you out o' here little one" He said in a very gentle tone.

Dickon got a pair of cutters out of his pocket. (He always seemed to have the right tool with him at the right time) The young horse still moved and kicked and it was dangerous to approach her too close to her for she might give a deadly kick. He motioned Mary to stay put while he moved slowly to the horse's head. He crouched down and pet her, talking to her in a low voice.

He looked back at Mary and whispered just loud enough to hear. "Aye, Mary it's a little lass. An' I think it's a wild one. Most likely a pony like Jump. She says she has been stuck for o'er an hour. She'll let us help her out." He pat her face. "Mary, run and get rope for a halter." Mary ran back to the livery stables as quick as she could.

She looked around for some rope and found it in a corner along with some bigger cutters for the wire. She hurried over the hill to where Dickon was. He had gotten most of her free and was waiting for her to return. He took the bigger cutters and tied the rope into a halter and quietly put it in his back pocket then touched her tangled hoof and pulled it gently out so he could cut the wire from it. Mary watched from behind anxiously.

She wanted to save the little horse, but she also did not want Dickon to get hurt.

Dickon started cutting some smaller bits of wire that didn't make much of a sound, the little horse surprisingly laid very quietly while he did this, perhaps Dickon had spoken to her to make sure she knew they were there to help.

As he got to the bigger wires, he was a bit more apprehensive, as they would make large snapping noises that might scare the horse.

He held his breath and there was sweat beading down his forehead and neck, his cheeks turned bright red, he cut the wire.

SNAP

The little horse gave a squeal and kicked out in alarm, and Dickon sprung back quickly.

The little hoof hit his thigh with just enough force to push him down onto the muddy grass.

"Oh, Dickon! Dickon! Are you alright?" cried Mary as she ran down the hill to help Dickon to his feet.

"Aye, just a small kick in my thigh is all. I mun be careful next time. She does not like the noise too much."

He had held her hoof in his hand again and Mary stood back a bit. "Steady now, Mary be careful I'm going t' cut the last wire."

The wire snapped again with less energy from before and the little horse was free. She jumped to her feet and trotted up the hill out of sight of the awful snake looking things, as she had earlier told Dickon they looked like.

Mary and Dickon went up the hill after her, they got to the top and she had already started grazing.

Dickon took the halter from his back pocket and gently rubbed it across her muzzle to let her smell it, she neighed at him.

He put the halter on her very slowly and gently so that she didn't even know it had been done.

"Aye, good lass she is. Now we need to take her to the livery stables an' call up the vet t' see if she needs stitches." He whispered as he took Mary's hand in his free one and led both to the barn.

Mary ran to the house as quick as her feet would let her and ran into the hall where the newly installed phone had just been put. She phoned for a vet to come as soon as possible.

He arrived, late and grumpy, looked at the filly and checked her injured leg, added a bandage and told them to keep her in a stall until the swelling and bruising went away, which could be some weeks.

Mary, who had tied her skirts up and rolled her sleeves to the elbows had taken in some hay for the little horse and given her some water, she then sat near the door of the stall and watched her eat.

"She's beautiful, I should like to keep her if uncle says I can." She said to Dickon, who had been standing outside the stall watching as well.

"Aye, if tha' uncle says so, she would be a good 'un to ride th' moors. She's a good little pony. You could have little Sam break 'er for thee." he said. Sam was new at the Manor and he was hired to run the livery since Thomas had left for the war a year earlier.

"How wonderful! We could go riding together on the moors and gallop for hours and hours, oh it would be wonderful!" her face caught a sparkle and she stood up. "I shall name her Ella, because she is a beautiful little thing. It suits her."

The little horse neighed at them.

"Aye, it does, she says she would very much like to have the name of Ella and she likes you." said Dickon, smiling.

Mary smiled and left the stall. She took Dickon's arm and they walked up to the Manor to tell Colin and Lord Craven the exciting hour they had catching a wild horse.

* * *

 **If you have made it to the second chapter, thank you! I really appreciate your time reading this.**

 **Again, any questions, comments, or ideas for upcoming chapters please post!**


	3. Ch 3 Meeting The Roytons

**Chapter 3**

 _Meeting The Roytons_

* * *

The rattling of feet and laughter rang through the gardens outside of Misselthwaite Manor one beautiful late summer morning. Mary was running around the front lawn in a beautiful red dress, her golden hair had started to turn a beautiful caramel brown and it was braided in the back under a straw hat. Her rosy face glimmered in the sun, her cheeks were full of color and her ivory teeth glowed under her pink lips. Her muddy boots squished here and there in the wet grass as she was ran away from Dickon, who had taken up a small ugly looking bug and tried to put it on her arm. His hair had turned out of it's shape and a few loose strands crept into his face. He had on his usual brown trousers and suspenders with his white shirt underneath. It had been a hot day and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. Dickon and Mary always liked to tease each other humorously which almost always ended with Mary giving Dickon a good slap on the arm and a mischievous smile.

Mary had earlier called for a servant to bring some snacks for them and out came a small silver tray with a plate of fruit and toast. The servant set it down on a small table near a few white chairs that had been set out in the grass. As she stole a berry from the tray and stuffed it into her mouth, Mary sunk into one of the chairs and lifted an arm to shield her eyes from the sun. "Charlotte, where is Master Colin at? He's missing all the fun."

"Master Colin's in the sitting room Miss Mary, and I meant to tell you before I went in miss, he's callin' for you to come as soon as you can. You'd best go there now to see what he wants, we wouldn't want him to go into hysterics again!" she said. Mary and Dickon looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders, "Colin has probably had came up with some new theory." They both seemed to say to each other. Mary took Dickon's hand and they both ran up to the Manor to see what Colin wanted. Mary ran quickly down the hall, Dickon followed behind her.

Earlier in the sitting room with Lord Craven and Colin was a young woman and her mother; Mrs. Royton and Miss Pippa. They had only recently moved into an estate that Mrs. Royton's father had left after he died which was close to Misselthwaite Manor. Mrs. Royton was a small plain old woman with just as sour an expression as to match her personality. Her daughter, Miss Pippa Royton was beautiful and as full of life as any young lady ought to be. She had on a beautiful white lace dress that was pinned up at her chin with a golden brooch.

Her long auburn hair had been tied up in a fashionable bun. She inherited a great deal of charm from her father, who had an abundant amount of love for everything living. The late Mr. Royton had been a naturalist who was studying the Latrodectus Spider and had unfortunately, gotten bit by the vile little creature which had ended his life. Having told Lord Craven and Colin about their entire life story in the matter of an hour, Mrs. Royton ran out of breath and exclaimed that she needed fresh air and might she get up and walk around or perhaps she could stand by the window? It would be better than a walk outside actually.

She just needed a small breath of fresh air. She stood up and took a small fan out of her purse and fanned herself. As she walked to the window she caught sight of two young people chasing each other in the gardens close by. She took her eyeglasses that had been on a small chain around her neck and hung them over her little hazel eyes and squinted.

"Mr. Craven, if I might venture to ask, who is that young girl out there in the red dress?" She asked, taking her fan and pointing it out the window.

"That is Mary Lennox Ma'am, my niece. She has lived with us since her parents died when she was ten years old. She brought all life back to this house and she is like a daughter to me now." Replied Lord Craven with a large smile beaming over his face.

"Oh how wonderful of you to take her in Mr. Craven, I'm sure she has made a great home here, you must ask her to join us! I'm sure I'd like to meet her." Said Pippa, gleaming with excitement, she had just then eyed her mother and knew there was some sort of trouble brewing in that old grey head.

Lord Craven turned to Colin and whispered. "Go tell Mary to come in, and make sure she changes her shoes." He knew Mary would be wearing big muddy boots outside instead of her slippers. Colin left the room, calling for Mary. Mrs. Royton still stood at the window watching the two in the garden. She got a bad notion in her head (As she got quite frequently while in company) to say something very rude about Mary, and her eyes glistened with impish delight.

"Why, Lord Craven that young girl out there, your niece you say, is running around in the filthy grass like a wild creature, and pulling up her skirts in such a ghastly, unwomanly fashion. She acts like she is still a child. My dear sir, I don't mean to offend -she had definitely meant to offend- but that girl looks like a young woman! Why, it is absolutely abominable. She should be sent away to boarding school!" Mrs. Royton had turned to look at Lord Craven and was now tapping the fan on the palm of her hand, and her eyeglasses had settled on the tip of her nose.

Lord Craven cleared his throat and replied to her "Mrs. Royton, Mary has had a governess for some time who is at the moment away to tend her sick mother. But I can assure you that Mary is very well mannered and she tends her studies well. Mary enjoys it dearly here at the Manor, she has not mentioned a want to study any further and I will not force her into anything she doesn't want to do." His face started to color.

Miss Royton, who had been trying to signal her mother to keep quiet had got up and walked swiftly to the window. She took her mothers arm and gently led her back to the sofa. She looked at her with an embarrassed face and spoke softly. "Mama, I am sure Lord Craven knows exactly what to do with his niece, he has taken care of her thus far without any issues. And besides, it is none of our affair, let us talk of other things."

"Nonsense Pippa! We are now neighbors, we can very well have an opinion. I do say, to be running about getting dresses muddy and with a gardener boy too. Why, it would be a scandal. I declare though Pippa now that I put my mind on it, he rather looked more like a man than a boy. Oh! such a scandal it would be!" she said, tightly squeezing her eyes closed and pursed her lips. She began fanning herself quickly as to not faint away from such dreadful thoughts.

The door to the library opened and in flew Mary, calling for Colin and trying to catch her breath. "Oh Colin! Where's Colin?" She barely finished her sentence before she realized that there was company present. Everyone was startled by her entry. She had colored intensely and she shrank back from embarrassment. "What on earth is going on?" Mrs. Royton said, nearly shouting. Mary turned to Mrs. Royton and Pippa and gave a small but faultless curtsy. "Forgive me madam, ma'am, I didn't know Master Colin had company over," Mary's sudden politeness, and the fact that she had taken it upon her own self to change from her muddy boots took Mrs. Royton off guard and she gave her a look of astonishment. Lord Craven rose and took Mary to the door to speak to her. "Mary, what have you been doing outside my dear?"

"I've been with Dickon. I'm sorry Uncle, I think I've embarrassed you." She said with a melancholic expression on her face, she felt embarrassed herself about the whole thing. Lord Craven gave her a smile. "Well, no worries my dear. Come and have some tea with us and meet your new neighbors. Miss. Royton and her mother are very eager to meet you." Dickon showed up at the door just then, and took his hat off and greeted them with a smile and a nod. He looked over at Mary and smiled brighter. He began to walk back into the hall when Mary excused herself from Lord Craven and followed him, she put her hand on his arm.

"Dickon! I'm sorry I didn't know there was company here I thought Colin was calling for us to listen to one of his lectures again, and he is not here anyway." She turned and searched the room for Colin. She sighed and looked up at his face. She was ashamed of not being able to invite him into the room with her. She let go of his arm and let him leave.

Colin had taken another way to the gardens and missed them, on his return back he found Mary sitting next to Mrs. Royton, who had taken it into her own hands to lecture her on the etiquettes and duties of a respectable young woman. She turned her head to Colin, gave him a smile and rolled her eyes.

As the Royton's got ready to leave, Lord Craven rose, pulled the bell and said, "It was very nice to meet you, Mrs. Royton, and you, Miss Pippa, perhaps we can meet again soon." Miss Pippa smiled at Lord Craven and bobbed her head in agreement.

The butler entered the room and showed the women out, leaving Mary, Colin and Lord Craven alone. After the door had closed, Colin and Mary sighed with relief.

"What a vulgar old woman." Said Lord Craven shaking his head. He went to his desk chair to look over the papers before supper.

"She is worse than Mrs. Medlock. You should ask her if she wants to become head Mistress, she sure is sour enough for it." Said Mary.

"At least Miss. Royton wasn't so bad, and she was kind of pretty too." Colin said, eying his father while he took up the paper to finish reading the sports section that was interrupted when the women had arrived. Lord Craven didn't reply to his son but he heard what he had said. Mary excused herself with a headache and walked down the halls to her room. She went in and closed the door, threw her shoes off into the corner and let her hair out of the braid that was torturing her head. She walked to the window with a sigh and sat on the windowsill.

There was a small breeze and it blew Mary's hair back behind her ears. She closed her eyes and breathed in the warm summer air. She had always found tranquility in nature. It was a relief to be in silence even if just for a moment, for it was a moment when Martha opened the door, smiled at Mary and greeted her cheerily. She took up a duster and her bucket that she had left in Mary's room and asked about her day. Mary still sat at the window with her face in the breeze.

"It was fine until that Mrs. whatever her name is came and gave me a whole talk about being a respectable woman. I know I am getting older now but I don't care for those sort of things. I do try to have manners but I don't like being told what to do by a old sour woman that uses her fan too much. What does your mother think about me, Martha? Do you think she approves of me being like I am?" she had her hands under her chin looking very intently at Martha for an answer. Mary respected Mrs. Sowerby and she always endeavored to be liked by her.

"Well now Miss Mary, Mother thinks very highly of you. She always says nice things about you and she always asks how you get on here. She is always tellin' th' younger girls that they should be more like "Miss Mary" Mary giggled. Martha went on " And besides that, Mother says that all a girl needs to do to become a respectable woman is to know how to hold a babe righ', how to wash th' clothes, how to make a hot nice meal and how to read. Tha's all that really counts, Mary. Mother told me just th' other day how she wishes you and Dickon might get your heads straightened out and get mar- Oh dear! I think I might have said too much." She covered her mouth and her eyes sparkled at Mary.

Mary had guessed what that last word was and she colored and turned back at the window quickly as to not let Martha see the smile forming on her face. She knew that things had changed between them in this past year, Martha's lips were moving, saying something when Mary realized she had been thinking about things so intently that she hardly heard what Martha had been saying to her.

Dickon's mind was full of everything that had happened that day. He left to check on the filly that evening and finish his work before he headed home. He felt a little disheartened about Mary. She was always going to be different from the other people, she had never liked being pressured into pretending to be something she was not, especially not one of those kind of people that gossip about other girls and look down on people like Dickon. It hurt him to see her struggling with the demands that society asked of her and all she wanted to be was herself.

Mary always talked of being on the moors, helping the animals, tending to the gardens with her own hands, she was a different breed from Colin and sometimes only Dickon could see that. As he walked to the Manor to join Martha on a walk back home he caught sight of Mary in her room. She had her head out of the window and was breathing in the fresh air before she put her head back inside and closed the window. Her hair was twirling here and there, and her face was shining brilliantly. Dickon smiled as a picture entered his mind of her being in an open field galloping on a horse wild and free with the same expression.

Martha and Mary showed up at the door a few minutes later chatting and laughing, they seen Dickon waiting on the last step of the house stairs. "Me an' Miss Mary were just talkin' 'bout you Dickon!" she said innocently while she dusted her dress with her hands and threw her hand-laced shawl over her shoulders. Mary and Dickon both looked opposite ways of each other in an embarrassment. Martha seemed unaware of what her words did and skipped down the steps to take Dickon's arm. Nothing ever really seemed to bother Martha or make her feel down and Mary loved her animated character.

"We will be seein' thee tomorrow then, aye Miss Mary." Martha said while she waved and gave a glittering smile.

"Goodnight, Martha. Goodnight, Dickon." Mary said in a quiet soft tone, there was always a perfect melody in her voice that was admirable. The siblings left sight into the darkness while Mary watched from the steps.

* * *

 **Thank you for reviewing my story so far, I really appreciate it! I'm terribly sorry this chapter took so long to do, I had been out of town for over 3 weeks and had not time, but I will try to keep up with it, just stick with me. :)**

 **Again, any comments or suggestions are totally welcome!**


	4. Ch 4 Colin Leaves For College

The day finally came for Colin to be off to college. The sun had not yet awoken when Colin stirred in his room, he lit the cold wick in the lantern that stood on his dresser. He gathered his heavy suitcases and stacked them next to the door and folded his blankets up and laid them on the bed in a sentimental way. A small sigh escaped from him as he hopped onto the large bed, but his feet did not dangle anymore; they touched the ground with a decided firmness. This was his last day at home and the thought gave his heart a little pang of premature homesickness.

He scanned the room in which so much of his life took place. There was so much to look at, so much to remember. But it wasn't the material things he was noticing, it was the memory they held for him. He would miss the table that he and Mary and Dickon would play at, he would miss the bed that he would always sleep in. He would miss his chair and the way the soft fabric felt when he moved his hand across it. Most of all he would miss Mary, Dickon, and the garden.

His glance made it's way to a portrait of his mother on the wall above the fireplace. It was looking at him with sparkling grey eyes and a smile the same as his own. Even though the portrait was so still and quiet it was always full of life and joy. It often gave him some feeling of warmth and love. He smiled back and blew a kiss to the portrait.

An idea arose in him and before he knew it, he was off his bed and at the door to his room peeping out into the hall to see if anyone was awake yet. No one was there or had seemed to be awake just yet although a delicate smell of working yeast ran through his nose, breakfast was already beginning. The stillness of the house was unusual to him, Mary was always talking in the halls, laughing or running about.

Servants were always singing as they cleaned the floors and dusted the old picture frames on the walls. But today it was silent and he could hear himself breathing for once and he could also hear his own heart pounding in his throat. He tip-toed through the hall and ran out into the front yard with bare feet and a lantern in his hand.

There was a feeling of an autumn chill in the air, and it had suddenly made Colin feel adventuresome and excited, a cold thrill ran up his spine. The grass was cold and frosty on the tips but the earth underneath was warm and his feet sank into it. The day was awakening and the fog had started to climb up into the sky. He felt as Mary always did at that moment, free and wild. No one was there to judge him or tell him what to do, he was completely himself.

He could laugh or cry, scream or be quiet and Nature would not frown upon him for doing so. Nature never frowned upon anyone, nor judged them, it was always kind to all. There are always flowers about to smell, birds to listen to, trees to take shade under, rain to dance in. No matter how harsh a day is or how sad you are, you can always rely upon something from Nature to give you a bit of happiness, and that is what it had done to Colin that beautiful morning.

Euphoria ran through his blood; the same euphoria that ran through Mary most of the time. It was a characteristic that was found in Lennox blood; his mother and Mary's father. At that moment he imagined himself a great runner in a race, the ground was shaking and the crowd was cheering for him. He was almost at the finish line and he wasn't even out of breath, For sure, he could become a great runner, he thought. The crowd jeered some more and Colin could see the finish line, it was in reach when something slippery caught under his foot and he fell onto the muddy ground.

He checked his ankle, for it was burning and red. Thankfully, it was only bruised from a small rock that he had tripped over and nothing more. He stood up and wiped his hands on the sides of his trousers, which were now wet and soggy. This did not stop him from completing the task he set out to do, so he walked to the barn with determination. Ben Weatherstaff had just been getting his lantern lit when he opened the door. There was Colin. Ben's faced glowed and he gave a mirthful smile and chuckle.

"Good mornin' Master Colin!" He lifted his lantern up.

"Ah Ben! Good morning. You're just the person I want to see. Do you by any chance have a ladder with you this morning?" asked Colin.

"Aye, sure It's in th' back of th' barn. I can get it for thee. What on earth does tha' need a lantern for at this time of th' mornin?" Ben asked. He motioned Colin to follow him and they walked to the outside of the barn. There was an old white ladder that was leaning up against the wall near a small haystack that caught Colin's attention.

"I just need it for..something." said Colin.

"Well, do ye need help bringin' it to where it needs be, Master Colin?"

"Not at all Ben, thank you I can manage," Colin put the lantern in between his teeth and with great strength and a bit of a limp, he carried the ladder with both hands up to the house and left Ben standing behind with a puzzled look.

He managed somehow to get the ladder through the manor and all the way to his room, it was a shorter ladder, and perfectly fit through his door. He laid it up against the wall near the portrait and climbed up, holding onto each step with his muddy toes. He reached out and took the portrait off the wall and climbed back down. He sat on a chair near his bed and held the portrait out in front of him. He smiled at it and gathered it in his arms with a tenderness like a child might do with a loved doll.

Colin never knew his mother but she had always been up there for him with her beautiful smile, she was just as real to him as ever. Even when he was young and had his tantrums he would secretly pull the curtain away so he could tell his mother everything that was on his mind. He loved his mothers portrait more than he realized. After what seemed like hours, Colin got out of the chair and laid the portrait out on the bed.

He dressed himself and washed his face in the white basin that was on the little table next to his bed. He looked into the mirror. He felt older that morning, not a child anymore. It was as if that run through the grass was the last chapter to his childhood and opened a new one to his adulthood. He stared at his face, small patches of hair started to pop out of his cheeks and above his lips. His muscles had began to show under his small but athletic arms, and his chest was broader than he had expected it to be.

He puffed himself up and thought to himself 'Why, I am just as broad shouldered as Dickon is,"

His mind wandered into different places as he combed his hair, he had been dreaming of college but never did he imagine what it would be like to actually be going. To be sitting in a class with other students, to have a library as big as the manor itself to spend all day in, and to be able to finally put his scientific thoughts into use. It was almost unreal.

He went to the window and saw the sun already making its way fully out of the horizon. He opened the window and looked out at the stars that were now almost invisible. As he gazed around, he saw a large masculine figure walking into the gardens with a pail. Colin made sure to get his shoes on this time and walked out into the hall once more, closing his door behind him.

Life had now begun in the halls, servants were whispering and tying each others aprons on. The bread smell was stronger now, he sniffed the air with contentment and walked out into the grass once more. He strolled now that he wasn't the only one up, he needed to keep up his image of complete gentlemanly composure. He went to the garden to find the door open and someone whistling from the inside. It was Dickon he was sure, ever since he could remember Dickon had made a habit of singing and whistling every morning as soon as the sun came up.

It was as if Dickon himself was a bird, always happy always singing. He told Colin and Mary that it was the best time to be in the garden, all of the leaves would begin brightening up, the sun shone through the tiny dew droplets that formed on the flowers and leaves in the night, the ground turned from being crisp and cold to an earthly warm temperature. And most of all, the birds squirrels and other animals were up and about looking for worms and other grubs for breakfast.

Mary had found it easy enough to awake herself early to see the garden in the morning but she was not there this morning. Colin looked in and saw Dickon bent over and holding his knees with his hands talking to a small brown squirrel that had a nut in its paws. He walked in and watched Dickon speak so beautifully. Colin could never quite figure out how Dickon knew the animals' language and he had no success in using his scientific experiments to find out how either. He cleared his throat; Dickon got up and turned to Colin. His face glowed and his eyes shimmered in the morning sun. He smiled at Colin and walked up to greeted him.

"Last day on th' manor, eh?" asked Dickon, as he gave Colin a manly thump on the arm. He and Colin moved to sit down on the garden bench which was still wet with the mornings dew. Dickon took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped it down.

"Ah, thank you Dickon. I have been meaning to have a talk with know, Just us without er…. Mary," Said Colin.

"Aye, I have as well, Colin," was Dickon's reply, with a large smile.

"Oh well, yes. I just.. I need to tell you how much I…appreciate your friendship all these years," Somehow this sounded wrong to Colin so he tried again.

"I know I have been somewhat cruel to you in the past about Mary. To put it bluntly I envy you, Dickon. I envy the way you make everything look so majestic and beautiful, you make even the dullest darkest of days look so exciting. I know that Mary would never be contented with a man who likes to read books all day long and well, I can't even milk a cow. I'm also her cousin, Dickon and so it seems to be in this modern age, cousins aren't marrying material anymore. I have gotten over Mary, Dickon. Mostly because I want to see her happy, and I know I could never make her happy. Besides, I'm off to college and who knows how long I'll be away studying," He kicked a small pebble with his foot.

Dickon didn't answer but smiled at Colin and looked at him intently with large gleaming eyes. Dickon broke the silence.

"Aye, aye. I know ye didn't mean harm. We will be friends for a long time I hope. As for Mary, she still loves thou like a brother, ye can be assured of that,"

Colin smiled "I needed to come to my garden for a little bit to think before I have to leave, I will miss this place. I will miss Misselthwaite, and the gardens. It may be hard for me to express my feelings as well as Mary can but I love this place just as much if not more than she does. I was born here, this is my home. College will be an adventure but this will always be home,"

Dickon stayed quiet and let Colin speak his mind. He had never gotten this deep into a conversation with him before and he let him talk as much as he needed.

Colin picked a rose from a nearby bush, smelled it and put it in his pocket.

"Mind, I will come and visit as often as I can. Please take care of our garden, and most importantly, Mary. Take care of Mary. She needs it. As much as she declares that she is independent, she needs taking care of. She's such a wild woman and I know you can tame her spirit just a little,"

They both chuckled at the thought of Mary being tame and quiet.

"Not too much though, that's how Mary is, She would not be Mary if she decided to be like you, Dickon,"

Suddenly with an important look and tone of voice, Dickon looked at Colin in the eyes. "Colin, I've got an important question to ask thee."

Colin studied his face, "Of course Dickon, what is it?"

"Well, as ye might have known, th' war has gotten worse this year. Father heard about it at his job las' week. He said if th' war continues on as bad as it has, they'll be draftin' civilians. I turn 18 in January. Drafted men have to be 18…I was figurin' on joinin' up anyway, duty you know, Colin. An' Mother is afraid, I'm th' oldest an' well…..I thought it'd be important to tell Mary my feelings before, jus' in case I do have to go off to war. Colin, I want to ask for her hand,"

Colin had never heard Dickon say so much in his life, and with so much emotion too. Dickon had faltered at the last sentence and that wasn't like him at all. This was a real issue that they had put aside in hopes of forgetting about the dreadful things that were happening to their country. This war was real, death was real, it had been hurting everyone, and it caught up with Misselthwaite Manor. It hit Colin like an arrow and his stomach fell even more. He turned pale and racked his brain for something to say to Dickon about it. Dickon searched Colin's pale face and laid his hand on his arm.

The war had not affected them as much as it did for other people. They were far out of the way and scarcely had news of the war, one or two young servants joined up last year, Mary went to town regularly to help the Ladies Aid, they knitted and made all sorts of things to make money, the sugar and ink had cost more and rations minutely bothered them. Even if Colin had wanted to join up, he was only 16. They were sheltered from the war and this realization of the real world was daunting and Colin was afraid of it.

A sudden thought came to Colin, that while he was studying, his friend was on the battlefield fighting, and there was men being killed every minute. Colin had a few times in the past mentioned the war to his father, but he would have none of it, he did not want to loose Colin, and Lord Craven had thanked God everyday that Colin wasn't old enough to speak for himself yet. He forbid him from entering the war lest it should be completely necessary. Colin was still silent despite the fact that his mouth was open, he had been thinking and forgot Dickon entirely.

"I didn't mean to upset ye, especially today. I'm sorry Colin, I should of waited and wrote to thee when tha' was settled in London. I jus' thought thee should of known is all. I jus' didn't know what to do. Don't worry thyself Colin please. There might not even be a draft, it was jus' a thought. Mary might not even-" Colin interrupted him.

"No need to apologize, it was important for you tell me. As for asking Mary to marry you, I think you better tell her and my father too. She has always loved you Dickon, don't be a fool and think she doesn't. Come inside and have breakfast with us." They stood up and walked out of the garden. The birds were still orchestrating their songs and the dew had began to dry. The Manor had finally come to life for the day. When they walked to the house, they caught sight of Mary in her window waving to them. For the moment their troubles left their aching chests and they felt the joys that life provided. They waved back and laughed.

"Mary won't ever change!" Colin said.

"I'm so dreadfully sad to see you go Colin," Said Mary at the breakfast table. She was wearing her favorite blue dress with white buttons and a sailor collar. Her hair was in a messy braid and loose strands came down in small waves on the sides of her face. She had been growing her hair long for years and her braid trailed down to her waist. She glowed with joy at seeing Dickon and Colin enjoying each others company. After breakfast was finished, Colin's things were loaded into the new family car. He hopped into the front seat. Mary ran up to the door and hugged him through the window.

"I will miss you terribly. Make sure to write weekly and keep safe. Goodbye, Colin!" said Mary.

As the car drove off Mary followed, squeezing Colin's hand. She began to cry as she let go and watched the car leave. What was going to happen now that Colin was gone? It was as though a piece of her heart went with him. Even though she had Dickon she still felt lonely after his departure. They had never been separated before, not even for a day. This was a new feeling for Mary which she did not like. She tried to cheer herself up with a smile but it didn't feel right. She stood silently watching the small figure leave into the road ahead. Dickon sensed her gloomy mood and approached her from behind. She turned around towards him, looking up with tears in her eyes "Oh Dickon, I feel so silly crying but it's like he's gone off to war! My stomach feels horrid," she exclaimed.

Dickon felt a horridness in his stomach too after what he had just heard, but he smiled at her. After a short moment Mary's spirits calmed and she dried away the tears left on her face and fixed her hair, pushing the loose strands behind her ears. They walked to the stables to check on Ella. She had grown since they caught her earlier that year, and she had become tame enough for Mary to take her for small rides around the pasture.

Being a wild Yorkshire girl, Mary never used saddles or bridles when she rode. A halter and sheepskin pad suited her just as well, her riding was for pleasure, not for vanity. She haltered Ella and lead her out to pasture, she wanted to let her exercise her legs for awhile. While she rode, Dickon stood watch to make sure Ella didn't get too challenging for Mary to handle.

As he stood watching, a breeze swooped over his face. He had started to trail off in thought about what Colin said earlier that morning about Mary. He didn't realize until then how much she had really meant to him, and how much he had cared for her. He always knew it within himself but he never admitted to it. He was always modest and it led him to be foolish enough to believe Mary wouldn't want to marry a poor man such as himself.

He loved Mary. He loved every bit of her and the thought of her marrying him put a shine in his heart. His cheeks grew red as he thought of it. He looked back at Mary again, her hair twirling in the wind, her deeply flushed face more beautiful than anything he ever saw. It was imperative now for him to tell her, but how would he? How could he ask for her hand if he knew that he could possibly make her a widow before she even turned twenty. He barely had time to explore those deeper thoughts before Mary came up to him and tapped his arm. "Dickon, Wake up! Are you sleeping with your eyes open?" She laughed.

"I'm sorry Mary, I was jus' thinkin' is all. Do ye feel better now?" He asked.

'Much better now, what were you thinking about?"

"Oh, I was thinkin' 'bout…um, how well Ella looks today. She's gainin' good weight and muscle. She looks fine."

"Of course you were, that's why you haven't answered me for the last ten minutes, you were dreaming about Ella's gaits," she said with a head-tossing laugh.

By this time, the sun was starting to fall back to the horizon and everything and everyone was getting ready for bed. Mary let Ella out in a pasture to graze overnight, then she put out her arm for Dickon.

"Thank you for helping me, Dickon." She said, looking up into his face.

"T'was nothin', Y'know I like helpin' with th' animals and all," he replied.

Mary smiled and hesitated for a moment then she stood on her toes and gave Dickon a small peck on the cheek.

"Goodnight, Dickon," she said in a quiet tone.

"Goodnigh' Mary," he replied to her in a whisper, for he could not make his voice any louder than that.

Mary went inside and Dickon sighed. No, he wouldn't make her a widow, he couldn't do that to her.

It was quiet and awkward. Just Mary and her Lord Craven at the table. No talking or laughing, just clatters from spoons and forks touching the chinaware.

Mary had a few times glanced at Lord Craven to see if he might start a conversation but he was reading something he brought with him to the table. As dinner went on, Mary started to realize that she never really knew what her Uncle did in the day. He was always reading something in a book or newspaper. Or he was writing. His visits to the garden were scarce now, and he rarely left the house except when he traveled for business. Mary had realized that her Uncle seemed so lonely.

She watched him at supper, and how his face looked like it longed for something. She wondered at his loneliness, it seemed as though Colin leaving had already changed the both of them. Or perhaps just her; she was too ashamed to admit to herself that she hardly knew whether he was afflicted by it much, as she never paid attention to her Uncle to that extent before. As she sat with her Uncle at the fireplace after dinner, she started thinking. How long it had been since he had something fill his heart with joy? Of course she and Colin were joyful to him but not quite the same as a joy of…she thought for a moment, having a horse? Tending to a garden? How about…. having a wife? Mary and Colin were growing up so quick that he didn't play with them as he used to. Would he never find someone else to love or was he just too stubborn to go out and meet someone new?

Mary was racking her mind to find something to say before she started pulling her hair out from boredom. Before she could control herself the words had already escaped.

"Uncle, we should invite the Royton's to dine with us sometime soon,"

Lord Craven looked at Mary in astonishment. "Mary dear, I thought you disliked the Royton's,"

"Well yes I dislike the old sour mother but young Miss Royton was very nice and I would be delighted to have her company again. Wouldn't you agree, Uncle?"

"Well yes, I do agree with you on that I suppose. I shall send a letter to them, perhaps they can dine this week,"

Mary smiled and excused herself, kissed her Uncle's hand and cheek and wished him a goodnight.

What was Mary up to? She never asks for anyone to come visit nor has she ever been delighted in just anyone's company. Lord Craven finished up his reading and watched the flames in the fireplace with his mind far away.

 **I apologize for taking so long to update this! I have been so busy this last year, and so little time to write at all. Please give me your thoughts on this chapter, I made sure to make it extra long! :)**


	5. Ch: 5 Where is Martha?

Chapter 5

As Mary laid in her bed the next morning, she stared at the ceiling and wondered what Colin might be doing at that moment. Was he already settled in, or was he still unpacking suitcases? Perhaps there were maids doing it for him they even have maids for college rooms? The thought of Colin having to do his own laundry or attempting to make his own food made Mary laugh out loud.

She got out of bed and went to the window to feel the morning air. There was a cold and downcast feeling in it, as though the skies were sad today. She ignored it and shut the window, she wasn't going to feel sad today. Mary sat on her bed and waited for Martha to come. Ever since she came to Misselthwaite, Martha would always bring Mary her breakfast and help her choose an outfit for the day. It was something she looked forward to, especially since she could talk to Martha about anything. Today she didn't come.

Mary sat waiting for her for over half an hour before searching the halls and servants quarters. She was nowhere to be found. It wasn't like Martha to be gone so early and not inform anyone of her departure. Whenever Martha had days off, she would always invite Mary to come with her back to the Sowerby home so they could bake things or read together. Mary ran to the kitchen and found the cook cutting up vegetables and putting them into a large pot.

"Miss Branby, have you seen Martha this morning?" She asked.

"No Ma'am, she didn't come down for breakfast, I figured she'd had her day off and forgot to tell me. Per'aps she went out to pick some berries or somethin' of the like, Miss," replied the cook.

Mary was quite sure she wasn't out picking berries on such a chilly morning, Martha didn't care much for the cold and always made Mary do things outside. Her heart started to beat quick and she felt dizzy and her legs trembled. Perhaps something bad happened in the night and she was taken away, or she was kidnapped! Perhaps Dickon was hurt too. Why was she thinking about Dickon in a time like this? She was not sure but she knew at that instant that she needed to find him.

Mary put her coat on as quick as she could and flew out into the yard. She ran swiftly through the grass and called for Dickon. She called in the barn and in the fields, and finally in the garden but there was no Dickon. _Something terrible has happened for sure!_ she thought. As she stood gasping for breath, she held her arms in close to her chest and thought of what she might do. Her nerves were in a terrible state and she was starting to feel tears form at the corner of her eyes.

She ran to the stables to fetch Ella. Before she knew it, she was galloping down the moors in the direction of the Sowerby home, trembling. The air was cold and the smell of autumn started to sneak into the morning air. That's how Yorkshire was, one day it was hot and hard to endure; the next, there was an autumn chill that would run through your blood and chill you to the very bone. the tears were now burning her cheeks. As she continued on, the wind caught in her long hair and twisted it into little knots. Her face was deeply flushed and her heart was full of anxiety and concern for her friend.

Over the hill revealed the tiny cottage which got closer and closer with each bouncing gait. A person was standing outside who had seen Mary and turned towards her. As she got closer to the figure, she realized it was Dickon. She flew up next to him and reigned Ella to an abrupt halt. She turned to see Dickon, who's face was dark and pale. He looked up at her and saw a fire blazing in her eyes; quick and dangerous. He put his arms out to help her off, instead she jumped off the other side. Hesitantly, she walked around the horse to him.

"What… has happened…. Dickon?" She choked.

"Martha took ill las' night," was all he could muster, looking at Mary with intense feeling.

"Ill? What kind of ill? What's going on?" she demanded, stomping her foot like a child. Mary was a peculiar person when she was deeply worried about something that concerned her feelings. Sometimes she would become angry or demanding towards anyone who was around her, even though she was not angry in the least. Dickon had known this about her for a long time, so her angry voice did not frustrate him, rather it comforted him to know she was concerned. He answered her very calmly, barely speaking loud enough for her to hear. He glanced at her knees, which were in a visible tremble under her dress.

"Come inside, I'll tell everythin' while ye have some tea and settle your legs,"

She took his arm and they went to the sitting room. All of the children were gathered there, and stared at Mary as she entered. With his seemingly calm voice, Dickon told them all to go out and catch some fresh air or play in the yard. They all hopped out of the room like a herd of bunnies. He brought a tray from the kitchen, poured Mary a cup of hot chamomile tea and sat down on the sofa opposite her.

"As ye know, Martha's husband Thomas is a soldier. He was sent to the front las' week and we got word early this morning from the war office concerning him. It seems….It seems as though Thomas migh' have been killed in action, for he is missin'," Dickon said. He cleared his throat several times as to not let her hear the quaver in his tone.

Mary gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. Tears filled her eyes again and she began to cry.

"Can I see her, is she ill from the shock?" she sobbed.

"Mary, There is somethin' else. Martha's with child. The doctor's afraid the news might make her lose the babe. She's already…very ill" he answered, his pale complexion looking crimson now from talking of such feminine things to Mary.

"Oh dear, She never told me she was going to have a baby!" Mary exclaimed.

"She didn't tell anyone till this mornin' after she was called here for the news," he replied.

Mary hadn't touched the tea and she looked at the cup with a feeling of sickness herself, she set the cup back in the saucer and laid it on the table, for the tremble in her hands caused the cup to clatter. They waited for Susan to return. As they sat in silence, Dickon watched Mary with a concerned look, she was pale and exhausted. She looked worried and afraid, would she look like this if she heard that Dickon was missing in action? Would she mourn for him if he never came back from the war? Maybe she would, maybe she would get so angry at him for dying and leaving her that she would make herself forget him and marry Colin or some other man. What kind of man is Mary after? does she have a preference in men? is he _her_ sort of man? Dickon was thinking all of these things at once, he couldn't stop himself, he was worried and stressed. Stress did strange things to a person, including doubting someone that he loved. His mind had still been wandering when Susan Sowerby entered the front door with a basket full of things for Martha. When she seen Mary she laid the basket on the sofa and reached out to give her a warm greeting.

"Dickon told me everything," Mary said.

"Oh my dear, it's a dreadful thing to happen," said Mrs. Sowerby, taking some powders out of the basket and motioning Mary to follow her. "Dickon, tell Jenny to start the lunch off, I'll be down to 'elp after I give Martha this medicine. Come my dear, follow me."

Mary followed her into the room where poor Martha lay sleeping. She was moving around uncomfortably in her bed; the doctor at her side.

"It doesn't look good Mrs. Sowerby," he said while shaking his head, "I will be back later, make sure she's comfortable and well hydrated."

He put on his hat and left the room. Mrs. Sowerby sighed and sat next to Martha. She mixed up some powders and waited for her to awake. Martha began to open her eyes and look about the room. Her face was dark and her eyes sunken. She looked horrid and Mary wanted to cry, but she held back her tears and smiled.

"Martha, how are ye feelin' my lass?" Mrs. Sowerby began softly.

"Oh Ma, I feel somethin' terrible. Eh there Miss Mary, what are ye doin here?" she asked with low energy.

Mary put her hand on Martha's and smiled. "Dear Martha, I was worried about you at the Manor, so I came to see what happened. I'm dreadfully sorry about everything."

"Dun worry, Miss Mary. It's alrigh', I know tha' Tom's just missin' and not really dead. I can feel 'et in my bones."

Martha replied slowly. Mary could hardly stay, the sight of Martha ill frightened her so, and she was eager to leave the room but at the same time, she had a strong urge to stay and nurse her and make sure she was alright. She had never been in a situation as such before. She was never around anyone so sick as this, Colin was sick of course but that was different.

He wasn't really sick in the first place and he never looked so bad as Martha had just then. No one ever took ill at the Manor, nor had they even needed a doctor other than for checkups. The only time that Mary remembered sick people was back in India when her parents died and she only heard storied about the illness, she had never seen it for herself.

She stayed at the Sowerby cottage until dusk, helping Susan mix herbs and medicines, bringing tea to Martha and helping Jenny in the kitchen. They all tried to stay calm and cheerful. Martha was ill, but thankfully she hadn't shown signs of a miscarriage yet and to Susan, that was good. Dickon insisted on driving her back in the family's carriage that evening.

The night was just as cold as morning and Mary could see her breath. The sun settled into the horizon, leaving a faint trail of red and orange painted throughout the clouds. The trees were starting to lose leaves. Mary had often thought about how trees stayed warm in the winter without their leaves when she remembered that she forgot her long frock at the Manor since she hurried off in a panic. She waited near the carriage rubbing her hands together and touching her cold pink nose. Dickon appeared with a coat of his own for Mary to use.

"You've got t' be cold Mary, I will let you borrow my coat for th' night," he said, trying to decide if it was appropriate for him to set it on her shoulders or simply hand it to her. Before he could give this more thought, Mary took the coat from him and hastily threw it around her shoulders, putting her arms in and tightly pulling the ends close to her chest for warmth.

"Thank you Dickon, you're such a gentlemen," she said with a smile that glittered brightly in the evening light.

Dickon held his hand out to lift her into the carriage, which she accepted. Mary's hand was cold to the touch and Dickon squeezed it unknowingly with the warmth of his. This caught Mary off guard and she turned her face suddenly, only to find it close to Dickon's. Her heart jumped into her throat and she sprang forward into the carriage, the blood rushing to her face, and the heat of Dickon's hand still stinging her skin.

The drive to the Manor was an awkward one, for neither talked the whole way back. When Mary got to her room that night, she lie awake in her bed, thinking about the entire day that had just passed. Even though Martha should have been on her train of thought, Dickon would not leave and she thought of his warm touch over and over. Looking at her hand as though he left something for her in it.

Something about it made her stomach hurt, and something seemed to start growing in her chest. She felt different and after that night, nothing was to be the same, ever again. The world was changing, and it was bringing her along with it.

The next two weeks were long ones for the cottage as well as the manor. Martha had fortunately not lost her baby and was up and about, doing small chores and peeling potatoes. Mary was relieved, for she had been worried about Martha's health and the health of her baby.

Martha had told her that she was 4 months along, and had planned on telling her the very week she fell ill. She still got upset about her husband Tom's disappearance, but she retained her faith and hoped for the best. Tom had been the chauffeur of the new automobile at Misselthwaite Manor, and had joined up in the army the year before; of course, everyone was under the assumption that the war would not be lasting much longer. Still, she feared he was really dead and her face darkened day after day.

Autumn seemed too abrupt and winter came sooner than anyone thought. Colin came back for holiday and his time was spent indoors next to warm fires and eating rationed cheese and biscuits. Mary did not see much of Dickon or any of the Sowerby family for some time after the new year, there was a blizzard that spread through Yorkshire and the drifts were higher than a man, so they were stuck indoors. Lord Craven was worried about them and had a servant ride out one day to make sure they were all safe. Which they were, all of them huddled up near the fire and sharing stories and playing winter games.

Mary was jealous of this when she heard, she would have rather been with Dickon's family talking and sharing stories than being stuck in the Manor with two boring men that only talked of science and sports and all of the modern things in London. She had felt left out at times in the Manor when Colin and his father were there together. She had always felt a bit like an outcast at times, which of course she knew not to be true but it was hard sometimes to believe it so when she would watch father and son talk so fluently to each other. Colin was growing so rapidly, and getting taller by the day, he was beginning to show features of his father in the way he moved his mouth or sometimes in the way he smiled. He was becoming more of a man every moment.

Mary would watch them at their play and dialogue. They would always be father and son but she would never be his daughter. Even though uncle Craven would treat her so. She would lie in bed at night, or sit at her window and close her eyes tightly to try and remember what her father truly looked like. She only had a small photograph of her parents, it was dark and her father seemed to be looking through the camera at something else, he was never looking at her and she could never imagine him as doing so. She would surely not remember either of their voices.

February came and went quicker than a hare. Mary had been to the cottage more than usual, which lead to her being in town more. She saw many wounded soldiers around, and lots of girls her age helping out with sewing uniforms, feeding the returned men, or nursing them back to health at the town clinic. Mary had thought about what she could do to help with the war, she had not thought about helping much before, but something touched her heart in such a way that told her what she needed to do.

She had been out at the markets, looking for fresh fish with Jenny Sowerby one bright and chilly March day and saw a man in a khaki uniform with crutches. His left foot was tied up in a bandage and he was struggling to get an apple that fell to the ground from his bag. Mary saw this happen and ran to his aid, picking up the fallen apple and handing it back to him.

"Thank ye miss." He said, his face glimmering into a wide smile, half covered by a patch on his left eye.

"Not at all, Sir," Mary replied. She had not seen the man's features until now, when she looked up at his face.

He had curly hair which laid on his head in almost the same fashion as Dickon's. It was the same color as well. His stature was large, with broad shoulders and heavily built arms. He was young, and when Mary seen his smile, she immediately thought of how he had reminded her of Dickon. Her mind raced to thoughts that she tucked away, thoughts of how this could have been Dickon.

How he could have been injured like this, a full grown man unable to even pick up an apple off the ground. It struck her heart and she felt a strange feeling of not pity, but sympathy towards this man. When she walked back to Jenny, she glanced back to see the man hobbling away towards the clinic.

"Jenny, what sort of things can us women to do help with the war? I want to help." She said.

"Well Mary, there's a Ladies' Aid tha' me an' Mother had started goin' to on Saturdays, we help sew an' cook soup for th' wounded at th' clinic. You can come an' help if thy wants." Jenny replied, taking Mary's arm, while they walked out of town.

"Yes, I shall come, Jenny. Tell your mother I shall come,"

* * *

 _ **And yet another chapter accomplished! Hope you all enjoy my story :)**_


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